


never be hurt

by InfiniteWoonique



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cravings, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mood Swings, Mpreg, Pregnancy Angst - Freeform, Pregnant Jung Wooyoung, Self-Doubt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 17:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteWoonique/pseuds/InfiniteWoonique
Summary: It wasn’t his fault though. It was all the baby.





	never be hurt

Wooyoung wished he had picked something more practical to study in college. Had he chosen education, he would be able to sit in a desk and all of his homework would have been busy work. Easy and able to finish at decent times of the day. Had he chosen biology, he would be able to go on magnificent excursions somewhere fascinating in order to do work. Had he chosen psychology, he could have made some real differences in people’s lives and would be able to do a lot for many. Had he chosen business, he would be able to get a good job and make a lot of money through his own company or corporation. But no, he had chosen art to, hopefully someday, provide for himself. 

Provide for himself, Yeosang, and their upcoming baby they had originally planned for in a few years, not in their junior year of college. 

Which seemed all too soon already. They were young. Wooyoung and Yeosang married right out of high school, their wedding having taken place a month after graduation. Some would call them both crazy for getting married so soon, and maybe they were, but what did they care? Neither had ever felt something so right as marrying the other, unable to find anyone who was just like the other. It was all too perfect and everything still was perfect. But now, there was a bump in the road, literally, and they had to deal with this as well as going through their senior year taking care of a newborn baby and trying to graduate while also finding a stable job to provide for themselves longterm. 

It was something they had to deal with. Yeosang had been overjoyed with the news and only saw finances as a foreseeable issue, but Wooyoung saw further than that. His specific major wasn’t going to do much for their baby or even himself. 

He was an art major and his specific area was painting. That meant long hours in the studio painting and spending many hours standing or sitting upright with toxic chemicals sitting around him. While oil paint was safe to use while pregnant, Wooyoung’s anxiety of accidentally ingesting it and then harming his baby was quite powerful at the worst times. He was taking two different painting classes this semester and to his luck, they both used oil paints. His third art class was sculpture and he had fewer qualms about that class than his painting ones. He couldn’t get poisoned from water-based clay. Maybe the glaze, but he didn’t even need that most of the time. 

His fears of his art degree not earning him enough to help pay for a child was constantly at the forefront of his mind and it always ate at him to some extent. Art degrees weren’t very useful when it came to raising and paying for children. And you can’t do a lot of art when you have a baby to hold and chase after once they start crawling and walking around. Wooyoung’s major was difficult to fit a domestic lifestyle into. 

At least Yeosang was studying business, but there was still the fact that neither of them had well-paying jobs yet. Yeosang worked as much as he could at the information desk of their college campus and directed students where they needed to go whether that be to classes, visiting to seek counselors, or needing to schedule with academic advisors. Yeosang was basically a full-time employee with his added classes, most online so he can work and do assignments in his own time. If he wanted to, he could graduate a year early and start looking for work in an office or start his own company. But many times, he had voiced how he wanted to graduate the San me year as Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung, unfortunately, didn’t have that option. There was no cramming art classes and the only online art classes there were online were all photography. And again, to his luck, he had taken every single photography class he needed and he regretted that at this time. He wanted to save his harder class for the end so he could learn technique and structure beforehand and not try to learn it all in the later stages of the creative process. He wanted to expand his skill first and get it to a point where he could paint with his hands behind his back before attempting harder levels of expertise. 

So there he was in the painting studio on campus, trying to paint a fourteen by sixteen-inch painting in one night after putting it off for two weeks. He had already done his figure painting midterm since it was done in class and was later in the day as opposed to early in the morning. He still had his sculpting midterm to do as well, but that was much easier than painting. He could do that one in an hour or two and it wasn’t due until the day after tomorrow. He had time to finish up the smaller details. 

This one was due the next morning though and it was now on hour four of painting without break and trying not to rush his work. It was impossible when he had waited for so long and had a deadline sneaking up on him. 

It wasn’t his fault though. It was all the baby. He was twenty-five weeks along and his morning sickness had not let up once he finished his first trimester. In fact, it got worse, especially in the last three weeks. He was often stuck in the bathroom throwing his guts up into the toilet and lying curled up on the couch or his bed as he went through the motions of nausea. 

He had just started to feel better and in a plea to extend the deadline with his professor, a crotchety old man who voiced his desire to retire and paint for the remainder of his life having been mentioned one too many times,  he had failed and his assignment was due along with everyone else’s. In hindsight, Wooyoung should have spoken up earlier, but his hesitance to speak to his teacher was less important than his well being. He just had to deal. 

This was his still life midterm after all. A very important assignment that needed to be attended to, and the critique portion of the assignment needed to be done with everyone else’s as part of their grade. Wooyoung wasn’t sure how he was going to survive someone criticizing his work when his emotions and mood were all over the place, but he would have to see. He had twelve hours until then and he would maybe take another five if he was lucky. 

Maybe seven with the amount of bathroom breaks he was taking because of this kid. His son did not tend to sit still for very long as well and every time Wooyoung found comfort, his baby always fought against that and made it hard to sit still for very long. Wooyoung was getting frustrated enough that he wanted to cry but he wasn’t going to do that with a handful of other students painting in the studio with him. He was going to suck it up and get the right color for these god damn books. 

He had been staring at this stack of books with grapes, apples, and a single vase for too long and he was getting sick of looking at them. He was also looking at an incomplete painting so he had no choice but to continue staring at what was in front of him. The background was hard to get to the exact color too because is that blue he sees or is it also purple in relation to the green apples?! 

Color theory and concept was hard when it came to painting because he had to go so in depth with it all and he had to paint the color he sees rather than the color his brain thinks he sees. And these apples weren’t just green, they had a tinge of purple added to it which also threw the background off a bit. Wooyoung still had a lot to go through and he was feeling his mind starting to burn out. This was going to be torture. 

The smell of the sour turpentine was getting to him as well even past the mask he was wearing. It was making him nauseous as well as it would anyone who smelled it for too long. He wasn’t even allowed to use turpentine but the freshman sitting five feet away from him was even when their professor told them not to, preferring gamsol to turpentine. There was less of a chance to get high off of gamsol and it was much safer for pregnant artists to use. 

A kick from his son brought Wooyoung out of his frustrated state and his hand settled on his rounded belly, careful to keep his paintbrush from touching his shirt. Oil paint doesn’t wash out and he had chosen not to use one of his painting shirts today, so he had to be very careful. His baby was getting restless and he was too, but he still had to finish his assignment. Wooyoung would kill for a nap. 

And his feet were starting to hurt so he grabbed the stool behind him and sat down, already disagreeing with the hard and wooden surface. He switched from sitting on the stool to standing, depending on what the baby wanted and he didn’t stay in one place too long without needing to change positions. He was at the point where everything was getting uncomfortable and it was only going to get worse, especially with his previous back injury. He would be finishing his junior year eight months pregnant and he had plenty of painting to do until then and even after.

He outlined the books some more and tried to continue but now his baby was restless and was kicking a lot and keeping a steady hand while a baby kicks your kidneys and ribs is impossible. It was about time he took a break, add another half hour to his painting binge. Wooyoung set all his supplies down and made sure to wash his brushes thoroughly before leaving the studio. 

He stepped outside and pulled his mask down, thankful to smell something other than turpentine for once. It was sunny and bright, spring in full swing as the weather warmed up again. Wooyoung walked a few feet until he was sitting on a bench in the small courtyard of the art division of the school. He brushed a hand through his pink hair and enjoyed the way the sunlight washed over his previously cold skin. It was cold in the studio and he was warming up now. 

"Wooyoung?" a voice called and said male looked up to see Yeosang with one of the largest smiles he's ever seen, "Taking a break?" he asked as he walked over to his husband, sitting right next to his side on the bench. Wooyoung smiled seeing the birthmark on Yeosang's left side of his face, the red mark giving him this beautiful touch to his equally beautiful looks. 

Wooyoung nodded, a hand resting on his belly, "The kid keeps kicking, I can't focus," Yeosang's eyes shifted down to his husband's middle before he placed his own hand on the slight younger's belly, sharp eyes forming happy crescents, "I think I'm burning out, too. I don't want to do much anymore. I'm probably only halfway through."

"Well, have you eaten yet?" Yeosang asked. By this point, the two of them would have eaten dinner together since Yeosang got off of work half an hour ago. It was Wooyoung's turn to cook, he realized, but he wouldn't be keeping that deal tonight. 

"No, unless you count two bags of honey butter chips as food," Wooyoung had been obsessed with the snack before pregnancy, but his obsession had increased ten fold now that he was pregnant. He craved the snack hourly and their kitchen was always stocked, "That was also two hours ago. I took a half hour break for both bags two different times. I can't eat while painting."

"So you're hungry?" Yeosang asked, shrugging his backpack off and starting to shuffle through it. 

"Yes, I'm pregnant if you've forgotten. I'm always hungry," he reminded, something that both had to adjust to as this pregnancy progressed, "The kid has been angry for an hour because I haven't been able to eat anything else. He's hungry, too." 

Yeosang chuckled, "You know, we should really come up with a name for him so you can stop calling him 'the kid'," he straightened back up with packages in hand, "Anyway, I brought us dinner because I knew you'd get so carried away you wouldn't eat," it was a habit of his. He tended to get so into the zone that eating was the farthest thing from his mind. It was worse when he was in the ceramics studio. He once spent seven hours in there on one sculpture and the thought of food hadn't even crossed his mind. 

The smell of beef was filling Wooyoung's nose and he about started crying right there. His favorite food was meat and Yeosang's galbi was his favorite, "You're a godsend," Wooyoung stated as he grabbed the neatly packed lunch box and opened it, the smell intensifying. He more or less ripped the chopsticks out of Yeosang's hands and dug in, taking a first huge bite and shoveling it into his mouth, shameless moan leaving his lips. He had been starving, "This is so good, Sangie."

Yeosang laughed and placed a sloppy kiss on his husband's cheek before starting his own dinner. They sat there together under the large camphor tree that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eating their dinner and enjoying each other's company. It seemed all too soon before they finished and that meant that Wooyoung had to go back in. His paint was in no risk of drying since it took a few weeks before oil paint really started drying, but he really did need to work on his midterm. 

"I have about one hundred different colors I have to sift through in order to finish the color intensity of this project and I still have to add in the vase, and don't even get me started on the texture. It's about as flat as my ass," which was a lie since he had filled out with this pregnancy. Now Yeosang, he had the flat ass, "I'll need to clean it up too, make sure I got the shadows and ellipses correct. This midterm is really biting me in the ass," Wooyoung groaned, hauling his pregnant body off the bench. He was so comfortable and now he had to go stand for a few more hours so he could paint. 

"Mind if I stay with you?" Yeosang asked, cleaning up their containers and anything they may have dropped. 

Wooyoung shrugged, "You can, but I can't promise I'll be very entertaining. I'll probably be really quiet," he reminded. When he was focused, words escaped him. He was dead silent for most of the time. 

"That's okay. I like watching you paint," Yeosang offered, grabbing Wooyoung's hand before leading him back to the studio entrance, "Besides, I can always talk to 'the kid'", he reminded, his hand sneaking a quick pat onto his husband's round middle. 

"He might like that. He gets restless if he doesn't get attention," Wooyoung smiled, "I could probably finish sooner if you give him attention, he won't be as tempted to kick or move around," he quieted down as he opened the door to the studio and entered, sighing happily when he saw the freshman using turpentine put up his easel and was now washing his brushes. 

The two headed towards Wooyoung's own easel and the younger sat down as Yeosang left to grab himself a stool to sit. Once returned, Yeosang looked over the painting and hummed, "It looks good. I like your apples," he pointed, "I like the texture and color quality of them all," he had picked up on a few terms after knowing Wooyoung for so long. 

"I like them, too. It might be the best part of this whole painting," he guessed, dipping his brush into alizarin crimson, ultramarine blue, and white. The perfect color combination for his bunch of grapes sitting next to the apples. The shadows and highlights were going to be a bitch to finish. 

The next few hours were quiet as Wooyoung painted and Yeosang finished homework on his laptop. Every now and then, their son would kick and Wooyoung would tell Yeosang to talk to him. His father's sweet words always calmed him down and Wooyoung found it so sweet, "Yunho," he uttered, finishing up the last highlight on the last grape of the bunch. They looked pretty good. 

Yeosang lifted his head, brows furrowed, "Come again?"

Wooyoung turned and smiled as he felt their baby flutter again, small feet swiftly kicking him and for once, he wasn't as annoyed as he usually was, "His name should be Yunho. Jung Yunho, or he can be Kang Yunho, whatever sounds better," his small hand smoothed over his bump, loving the feeling of his son kicking when it was the right moment. He wasn't always annoyed. 

"Why not Jung-Kang Yunho? I'd be perfectly fine if he took your name though. It's up to you since you're growing the kid," Yeosang voiced, ducking his head so he could kiss just above where Wooyoung's hand was placed. He pressed his nose to the soft skin, reveling in the glow that Wooyoung was producing in all aspects. 

"It's up to me because I'm growing Yunho," Wooyoung corrected, perfectly straight teeth on display to showcase that gorgeous smile that Yeosang fell in love with, "We can figure that out later, but I've been thinking of the name for a while. I just never brought myself up to say it."

"I like it a lot. It sticks, too. Hello Yunho, I'm your daddy and your appa is working hard not getting annoyed at you, but you're kind of pushing it you know," Yeosang addressed Wooyoung's bump, giggling when their son kicked his nose, "Stop it."

"He won't listen. He's stubborn like me," Wooyoung commented, continuing to paint and fix areas that could use some work, "He'll be a handful when he's actually here."

"And I'm excited for that," Yeosang voiced, reverently caressing his husband's round middle, peppering it with kisses. 

Wooyoung hummed, smile still placed on his lips, "Me, too." 

**Author's Note:**

> Stan ATEEZ! They're so good and I love them with all my heart. Also, I'm an art major, can you tell? 
> 
> Also, I don't know where this came from. I've had writer's block for like two weeks and I woke up in a cold sweat and this showed up out of nowhere. Hopefully it was good! 


End file.
